


War, Wisdom, and Wildflowers

by silmarilz1701



Series: A Tale of Two Heritages [4]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: 1960s, 1970s, Basically just a fic about who bails Noelle out of jail next, F/F, F/M, Mentions of Suicide, Next generation fic, One Shot Collection, Peace Movement, Period Typical Bigotry, Post War, Summer of Love - Freeform, The Nixon kids are both sort of crazy but also who would expect anything else, Woodstock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25252897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701
Summary: Everyone is fighting a war. Their mom and dad fought the Nazis as Lieutenant Klein and Captain Nixon. Uncle Ron fought the Nazis and the North Koreans. Now it's their turn. Ettie fights the war in the mind, trying to figure out what makes the brain go from happy to sad and happy again. Noë fights the war against the war, sure that if everyone just sat down and saw the beauty in the world, the Wars would stop. Both thought the other a little crazy. But both had their own brand of wisdom.Companion to the Tale of Two Heritages Band of Brothers fanfics. One-Shots of the Nixon girls in the 1960s and 1970s. Featuring the children of Easy Company. References to Erin Hunnicutt from M*A*S*H.
Relationships: Kitty Grogan/Harry Welsh, Lewis Nixon/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Tale of Two Heritages [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572553
Kudos: 11





	1. Family Resemblance

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this, even if you've not read the main series. It's a set of ficlets dedicated to the antics of the Easy Company children, mainly through the eyes of Noë, one of Nixon's two daughters. It'll also contain one-shots from the perspective of the parents of Easy Company, or sometimes, the other children.

**San Francisco, California**

**Summer 1967**

* * *

Wildflowers, Ettie always told her, got their names from being equal parts tough and beautiful. They could woo the wandering soul, and they could resist any amount of poison thrown their way. Noë liked to think she was a wildflower. 

She would settle for the term Flower Child though.

Ettie would be on her butt about running off without her that morning. But Ettie didn’t understand. Rules were meant to be broken. They existed purely so the stupid men in power could keep her down, pinned against a rock. And if rules didn’t make sense, well, then they shouldn’t be rules.

Besides, the music in The Haights was amazing. And the art, she wanted to show Ettie all the paintings and charcoal sketches and the pastels. Oh the pastels! And of course the music. Too much great music to contained in such a small area.

It wasn’t fair, really. Not to the world, that the beauty she had found with her fellow Wildflowers should be constrained to an intersection in San Francisco. Criminal, almost. Yeah, the real crime came from the stupid people who didn’t see how simple everything was. 

Simple. Very simple. Be nice to people, they’ll be nice back. She may have only been fifteen, but Noë knew that humans weren’t bad, just a little confused. If they sat down and talked, they’d see that they had a common language: beauty.

Beauty could be found everywhere. It was in the art that the Wildflowers decorated their cars in. It was in the music that Jefferson Airplane graced the airwaves with. It was even in the sirens of police cars. They just didn’t see it.

Ettie didn’t see it. Or, she saw it but she didn’t want to admit it. She had her books, and her hope that Yale would see Dad’s way, that it would become for girls too. Noë knew that Ettie missed Aunt Blanche, but Noë also knew that maybe if the world had been a bit kinder, Aunt Blanche would still be alive. Or, that’s what she chose to believe.

“Hey! Kid!” 

Noë turned, her sandals catching on the uneven sidewalk. She tumbled, barely catching herself on a street pole. The man who had called out was a cab driver. Dark hair, tall, probably about Mom’s age. Maybe she could get herself home before Ettie even got her nose out of her books.

“What?” Noë asked.

“Jesus.” He almost snorted in amusement. “I was gonna tell you to stop putting your nose in the air. If it rains, you’ll drown. Or trip on the sidewalk.”

“Funny,” she sneered. Noë knew the type. Thought they were better than the Flower Children. These guys were the reason they even had to celebrate alone. 

“Ah, come on. A kid your age shouldn’t be wandering around alone. I’ll give you a lift.”

Noë frowned. But she reminded herself she was a Wildflower. Tough and kind and pretty. She had to trust this man, or else all her beliefs that people were inherently good would just be worth nothing. Ettie would’ve won then.

“Fine. But no funny business.”

He laughed again. “Fuck, kid, just get in the cab. Where you going?”

As she crawled into the back seat, she gave him the address. Grandma Nixon’s old place, where she and Aunt Blanche had lived. They’d kept it in the family to use as a vacation home. The cab smelled like cigarettes. Noë liked it immediately. It reminded her of Mom.

“Rich part of town, kid. You gotta name?”

“Noëlle. It’s French,” she added absentmindedly. The cabbie sure did love to talk. But it surprised her that he went a bit quiet after that. “My mom, she’s french,” Noë tried to explain.

“I knew a French broad once. Crazy girl, kinda like you.”

“I’m not crazy. We’re changing the world here, fella.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Sure.”

The sun was high in the sky now, inching towards the other horizon again. Noë liked the sun more than the moon. The sun was strong, bright, powerful. It never gave up, always rising in the morning. Kinda like a Wildflower in its own right.

“Why don’t you think we’re changing the world?” she finally asked.

The man was quiet. “Well fuck, I don’t know. Maybe you are. Maybe you will. I saw a lot of shit during the war-”

“Which one? There’ve been too many,” Noë bit back.

“Fucking right there.” He sighed. “The second world war.”

“Oh. My parents fought in that too.”

“Nursing isn’t the same as fighting,” argued the man. “Important work, but we saw things as soldiers…”

“She wasn’t a nurse, asshole.” Noë was tired of his chatter. He didn’t know what he was talking about. “She fought. For freedom. Our freedom, and we Flower Children, we’re fighting in a different way. A way that doesn’t hurt people.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “You got a big mouth, kid.” 

“Yeah I do. And I use it,” she snapped back.

Noë smirked as she saw them pull up outside her house. Of course, her smile dropped as soon as she saw Ettie rush out the door, her blonde, curly ponytail bobbing up and down and her book still in her hand. She glared even as the door opened. 

“Damn it, Noëlle Ryer Nixon, you gave me a heart attack!” Ettie pointed at the house. “Get inside. I’ll pay.”

Noë glared. “I was safe, Ettie.”

“Wait wait, fuck. You’re Nixons?”

They both turned to where the man had gotten out of the car. He stood on the driver’s side, arms across the top of the cab. Noë thought he looked a little pale. But then he started laughing.

“Jesus fucking Christ that makes so much sense,” he said. Then he laughed again. “Shit. I knew your parents. No wonder you’ve got a mouth on you, kid.”

“I’m sorry, who are you, exactly?” Ettie asked, physically pushing Noë behind her. The girl grunted a protest.

“Joe Liebgott, formerly of Easy Company. Shit. I see it now. Goddamn, you’re both Nixons.” He shook his head again with a grin. “I cannot believe this. Her daughter is a damn Flower Child.”

“Hey!”

“Noë, shut up.”

“You can’t tell me to shut up.”

Joe laughed again. “Yeah. Definitely Nixons.” He disappeared into the cab, rifling through the center compartment. When he popped back up, he had a pencil and a scrap of paper. “Here.” He started scribbling his phone number and address on it. “Give your mom a call. Tell her Joe Liebgott sends his belated regards. Jesus. Nixons in San Francisco. God help us all.”

Ettie watched him carefully. But she nodded, taking it and smiled. “Thank you, for picking up my idiot sister. Even if you don’t know our parents, I owe you for that.” She rifled through her back pocket. “Here’s a $50. Keep the change.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Definitely Nixons.”

Ettie moved a bit to stand between Noë and Joe as he watched them a little longer. But with a final laugh, he just shook his head and scooted back inside his cab. While he drove off, she watched it go. 

“I was safe the whole time, Ettie.”

“Noëlle Ryer Nixon, you are in so much trouble!”

Noë cackled as Ettie tried and failed to grab her arm. “Gotta catch me first.”

Ettie was a wildflower, even if she didn’t want to admit it. As Noë dashed off towards the house on the top of the hill, she just laughed at the way her sister dropped the book and raced after her. Even adults could be wildflowers if they wanted to be. Ettie just needed to want to be like her. Then they’d all be happy.


	2. Fairy Tears

**May 1956**

* * *

Ettie found solace in the night sky. She could only identify one constellation, Orion, with his three-starred belt. But the night sky was ordered chaos. It made sense even in its complexity. And Ettie liked the stars the best.

Sometimes, she tried to count the stars. Pointless, maybe. She knew she'd never count them all. Like tears, they were endless. Mrs. Martin had said they were balls of flaming gas, floating in the universe. Ettie preferred to think of them as fairy tears.

When she closed her eyes, Ettie could hear her voice. She'd always been a bit quiet, kind of like she was. Soft voice, strong heart, Aunt Blanche had always said. 

Ettie felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. On Uncle Harry's back porch, she could see the stars. She could feel the gentle breeze that ruffled the leaves in the trees. Aunt Kitty had told her she could stay up late. Ettie had begged her. She wanted to count the stars.

No. The fairy tears. Aunt Blanche had called them fairy tears. They were fairy tears.

With every day that passed, Ettie envied Noë more and more. She was still little. Noë played with dolls, and sang silly songs, and splashed in the bath. 

Ettie hated being eight. Because turning eight meant the stars were flaming balls of gas, not fairy tears. All she wanted was for them to be fairy tears like Aunt Blanche had told her, back when they'd played together after Mom and Dad had brought home Noë. But she couldn't. Not anymore.

Mom had told her Aunt Blanche had been in a lot of pain. She'd said that Aunt Blanche had felt alone. She'd said that it wasn't their fault, that something had been wrong for a long time, and they'd done what they'd could.

Ettie wasn't sure she believed her. She wasn't sure Mom believed herself. When Dad had suggested they spend a few weeks with Aunt Kitty and Uncle Harry, Mom had agreed. They said they had to take care of some things.

She wasn't stupid. Noë was three, she didn't understand. But Ettie knew Dad had been drinking his expensive drinks, and Mom had been taking more smoking breaks during homework time. She'd heard them arguing from the stairs; Mom had said Dad needed to stop drinking, and Dad said Mom needed to stop smoking.

Then she and Noë had been sent to Pennsylvania. She guessed they'd been sent to play with Kevin and Diana. But Ettie didn't want to play with Kevin. He was loud, and loved baseball, and liked to play pranks. Diana was Noë's age. She was too little. They still played Fairies.

On the back porch of Uncle Harry's house, Ettie laid herself back. Some bugs buzzed around her, but the breeze was cool and kept most of the mosquitoes and fireflies away. She started counting.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Fairy tears? Or flaming balls of gas. Ettie frowned. Mary and Joyce at school liked to draw pictures of the stars. Five points, golden, neither fairy tears nor flaming balls of gas.

Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

Why had Aunt Blanche been lonely? She'd had Mom, and Dad, and Mrs. Peggy out in California. She'd had Ettie. Soft voice, strong heart. 

Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.

The stars blurred. She tried to wipe away the tears with her hands, but they just made her eyes sting more from the bits of dirt. Stupid tears. Ettie didn't like tears.

It took a moment before she realized that Noë had stopped screaming about not wanting to go to bed. She wondered what time it was? Even Kevin's voice had gone silent. If he was in bed, it would be her bedtime soon, too.

The door behind her opened with a bit of a squeak. Ettie sat up, turning to see who had come out. It didn't really surprise her to find Uncle Harry. Aunt Kitty was probably making sure Diana was sleeping. She tried to smile.

"I guess I have to go to bed?" she said. Ettie moved to get up, but he shook his head. She paused. "I can stay up?"

"For now. Don't tell your Mom, though," he insisted. As he settled on the porch steps next to her, he took a deep breath. "How are you doing, kiddo?"

Ettie felt her face scrunching up. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to! The tears hurt her eyes and made her stuffy. But she couldn't stop them. Covering her face, she tried not to let Uncle Harry see her ugly crying.

By the time her tears were reduced to gasping breaths, she could feel his hand on her back. He didn't say anything. Uncle Harry could be sort of like Aunt Blanche if he needed to be; soft voice, strong heart. He could also yell at Kevin, though.

The thought made her feel a bit better. With her blue dress sleeve, Ettie tried to dry her face. She coughed again, trying to get a hold of herself. She hated crying. It was ugly and messy and made her feel tiny.

"Crying's stupid," she finally choked out. Ettie shook her head, some of her blonde curls getting in her face and plastering themselves to her cheeks. "I hate it!"

Uncle Harry just chuckled, and took his hand away. "You've probably been doing a lot of it, huh?"

Ettie paused. She tried to control herself. "Mom said Aunt Blanche was lonely," she finally said. "I don't understand."

"No one does, kiddo. It doesn't make sense."

"There has to be a reason," she insisted. Ettie turned to him head on. In the low light of the porch, she could see his frown. "She couldn't have been sad for no reason! That'd be horrible. That wouldn't be fair. There has to be a reason."

"Sometimes things just don't make sense," he told her.

But Ettie shook her head. "No. No I don't believe that. That's not… That's not right. We just don't understand it, that doesn't mean there wasn't a reason."

Like fairy tears. Maybe the stars weren't actually fairy tears. But as a kid, fairy tears made more sense than flaming balls of gas. Maybe Aunt Blanche's sadness was like that. Maybe she wasn't sad. Maybe they just said that because they hadn't figured out what was wrong.

"I can't read your mind, Ettie," Uncle Harry said. 

It interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to look at him again. "Do you ever just say you're sad because you don't know what you really feel?"

He paused. "Yeah. Sometimes. Is that how you're feeling?"

Ettie shook her head. She stood up from the porch and walked a bit forward. Then she turned around. "What if Aunt Blanche was like that. What if she wasn't sad. What if she felt something else, something she couldn't say."

"Ettie-"

"No. No! I'm not crazy, and I'm not sad, and I'm not a baby. Just listen!" Ettie stomped her foot out of habit and grabbed her arms to her chest. But he stopped, so she went on, quieter. "Uncle Harry, what if… fairy tears."

"What?"

Ettie tried to explain it. She tried to make him see. What if Aunt Blanche was like the fairy tears. And if there was something else, something they couldn't name, then maybe… 

"Maybe we can stop other people from dying like Aunt Blanche."

Uncle Harry didn't say anything at first. He still sat on the porch steps, watching her where she'd started pacing in the grass. Then he shook his head. Ettie always thought the little gap in his teeth was funny. It made him unique. And when he smiled it made her feel a little better.

"You sure you're nine?"

"Yes." Then she grinned. "Dad says I'm extra smart. He said maybe someday I'll go to college and be smarter than all the boys."

He laughed again. "I wouldn't doubt it."

"Boys are dumb. They're loud and screamy." Ettie shook her head. "Kevin and the boys at school say that girls don't go to school like they do. They said girls should be moms."

"You don't want to be a mom, though."

Ettie scrunched her face in disgust. "Babies are kinda cute but they smell and they cry and don't do anything." She shook her head. Her gaze fell to the grass. "I don't like thinking about Aunt Blanche being lonely. But she's gone." She paused. "But what if there are other people who we can save! Then, then we have to!"

Uncle Harry just smiled. She liked his smile because it wasn't one that made her feel tiny. He was more like when Mom and Dad smiled. He believed her.

"So, what's step one?"

She paused. "What?"

"What's step one? How do we find out what the fairy tears really are?"

Ettie sighed. She moved back to the porch steps and plopped down next to him. What was step one? "I don't know."

"Step one is bedtime," he corrected her. "Then step two is middle school. Step three is high school. Step four is college-"

"I'm gonna go to Yale, like my dad." 

As she scrambled up, he followed. Uncle Harry didn't say more, just smiled and nodded. She knew only boys went to Yale. But she was going to change that. Step three and a half would be to make Yale take girls.

Then she'd figure out the fairy tears.


	3. Joyride

**June 1970**

* * *

Noë’s leg bounced up and down where she sat in the desk of the policeman. She could feel her heart pounding, her palms sweating against the black phone she held up to her ear. It rang. It rang again. Then the greeting of the hotel front desk came through, and her anxiety skyrocketed.

All she wanted was some weed. She’d even settle for those cheap Lucky Strikes if it meant taking the edge off. Her gaze drifted to the man on the other side of the desk. He glared down at her, a big cigar filling the room with smoke. Dark hair and dark eyes watched her every move.

“Hello, yes, this is Noëlle Nixon. My uncle is staying with you as part of the 506th Easy Company reunion. Could you put him on the phone for me? Thank you.” She narrowed her eyes as the guard huffed at her pleasant tone. “His name is Harry Welsh.”

The woman on the line disappeared. Silence fell. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart and the deep inhales of the officer’s cigar. Was that genuine Cuban? How did he get...

_“Hello?”_

Uncle Harry. Her heart stopped. “Uncle Harry?”

_“Noë? Why are you calling me? I can get your dad-”_

“No!” Noë paused, trying to collect herself. “Please don’t.” At the silence that followed, she sent a silent prayer to anyone listening that he wouldn’t do what he threatened.

_“Are you in jail again?”_

“Yes.”

_“Max and Will?”_

“They’re here too,” she confirmed. “Please don’t tell my parents.”

_“Noë-”_

“Please! Just... if you come get us out, I’m sure my dad will pay you back.”

He laughed, but he didn’t sound very amused. More of a scoff than anything else. She squeezed her eyes shut.

_“Did you total his car, and are any of you hurt?”_

“We’re fine,” she assured him. Then she paused. Chuckling, she added, “And we didn’t kill anyone.”

_“Put the officer on the phone.”_

She grimaced. With a sigh, she handed the phone to the officer. He grabbed it. The man took the cigar out of his mouth. In his rough voice, he said hello.

“Driving without a license, speeding, resisting arrest,” he rattled off the charges. “No one was hurt. The car's okay. Yes. All three of them. Noëlle Nixon, William Guarnere, Maxwell Luz.” Silence, and then he nodded. “They’ll be here.” Then he handed the phone back to her with a smirk.

She took it, glaring at him. “Uncle Harry?”

_“Sit tight. Not that you could go anywhere.”_

Hah, hah. Noë rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

The phone clicked off. She lingered at the handset a bit longer before putting it back down. The officer smirked at her.

“What?” she muttered.

He shook his head. “Come on. That’s your phone call. Time to rejoin your boyfriends.”

“They’re not my boyfriends,” she snapped. But Noë got up from the spinning wooden desk chair and followed him out of the office. She caught a glimpse of the full moon from the window as she passed it. “Where’d you get the Cuban? Thought those were contraband, officer.”

The officer stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her. “What?”

“That’s a Cuban cigar, right?”

“Just walk. You’re already in enough hot water as it is, babe.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment. Like she would ever even give him the time of day. She’d seen the war propaganda in his office. Even Ettie had joined the protests after that shooting at Kent State. The idiot needed his head checked if he thought violence was the answer to anything. She wanted to slap him.

They reached the white-washed cells. Inside, glaring at her, Will Guarnere stood against the back wall. Beside him on a bench sat Max. He looked about as irritated as he did. The officer opened the cell door, the metal screeching on the hinges as it did so. It closed behind her with a crash.

“Did you get Mr. Welsh?” Max asked.

Will scoffed. “'Bout the only goddamn useful thing she could do.”

“Hey!” Noë spun to face him. She narrowed her eyes and walked up to him until she was nose to nose with the slightly older boy. “You know if you hadn’t dared me to drive, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“How was I supposed to know you don’t got a fuckin’ permit! Jesus, you’re like seventeen Noë. Guess I figured you’d be better than the regular chicks who make their men do the driving.”

“Oh shut up,” she said. “You have a license! You should’ve just driven.”

Max snorted a laugh. “Okay, but you gotta admit. Running from the cops was pretty fun.” He tried to suppress the laughter, but soon it echoed in the otherwise empty cell room. “Noë, you certainly earned the fifty bucks.”

She looked at Max in satisfaction. She had, hadn’t she? Of all the crazy shit he’d dared her to do over the years, running from the cops in her dad’s car without a permit had been pretty legendary. “For only driving with my mom a few times in the country, I was pretty good.”

Will scoffed. “For a fucking maniac.”

“William, if you were so damn concerned, you could’ve stopped me instead of increasing the bet!”

That made him straighten up. “What, and back down to some Jersey kid?”

“Oh excuse me, great and powerful South Philly boy, I forgot you’re self-conscious of the fact that I, a girl who kisses other girls, has bigger balls than you.” Noë smirked when he didn’t respond.

Max leapt up to stand between them as William raised a fist. “Woah, woah. Cool it. Noë, you earned your fifty bucks. Will, take a breath.”

“Make love, not war,” she teased him. “Besides, I’m your best bet at getting LSD so you better play nice.”

William rolled his eyes. “Get the fuck away from me.”

With a laugh, Max turned to Noë. “Make love not war, says the chick who decked the Compton kids last year.”

“Vince had it coming,” she muttered. “He was saying bad things about Erin.”

“Hey, I ain’t arguing,” he agreed. Then he patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t blow all your dough on acid.”

After a moment, she turned to him a laughed. “I’m going out to San Fran soon. Won’t need money to get drugs. Kisses work well enough.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking disaster,” Max teased. “Save some of those kisses for the rest of us, since you play both sides these days.”

“Freak,” William muttered. “Fuckin’ Switch Hitter.”

Noë flinched. But she turned on him and decided just to smile. “Shut the fuck up, William. You’re just jealous I’d kiss Max but not you.”

“Not in a million years.”

With a huff, she plunked herself down on the concrete bench next to Max. Damn, she wanted a smoke. With an internal groan, she heard her mom scolding her for the drug use, and her dad yelling at her for the arrests. They didn’t understand. No one did. She just... she just wanted to have some fun and forget about the shit show that the world had become. Everything made so much more sense when she could just sit and listen to Jefferson Airplane.

She wanted to talk to Ettie. Her sister always knew what to say when everything got confusing. Sometimes she thought Ettie made more sense than the drugs. Sometimes. She sighed. Her sister was still at Yale, though.

The handle on the wooden door to the cell block jiggled with keys. They all turned. Soon enough, two pairs of footsteps filled the room. She braced herself for the worst. Standing up from the bench, she moved to the bars and looked down the hall.

Uncle Harry. She smiled, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. Dad would yell, but sometimes Uncle Harry’s abject disappointment made her feel worse. He didn’t smile back.

“Right, kids. You’re free to go.” The officer unlocked their cell. “The car’s around the corner. This time, the one of you with a license better drive it.”

“Yes, sir,” muttered William. He pushed out of the cell first, before glaring back at Noë. Then he started asking the officer for his stuff.

Max went next. He shot a small grimace her way before saying he would go join Will. Left alone with Uncle Harry, she took a deep breath.

“What is going on with you?” he asked. But then he sighed, and steered her towards the door. “The officer dropped the charges except for the speeding ticket. Said something about the hassle not being worth losing his cigars?”

She grinned. “Figured they were Cubans.”

“Come on.”

After a moment of silence, she turned to him. “What did you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Shit. Noë’s jaw clenched and she turned from him. No doubt she'd just kissed San Francisco goodbye. But then she flashed him a small smile. “I did win fifty bucks though-”

“Noëlle!”

“Sorry.”


	4. Babysitting

**June 1957**

_Easy Company Reunion_

* * *

Most ten-year-olds probably didn't think of an army reunion as their favorite time of year. But the Easy Company Reunion was just that for Ettie. This year, her mom and dad had told her she could go around the hotel by herself as long as she didn't leave with any strangers and she knew where Noë was. Not leaving with strangers would be easy. Keeping track of her sister would be harder.

Ettie kept her brown leather notebook tucked underneath her arm as she hurried down the stairs to the ballroom that the hotel gave them for the weekend. She'd pulled on her blue and white striped dress over a white blouse, brushed her teeth, and run out the door at the first available moment. Her parents still had Noë. The faster she got away, the more likely she could do so without them asking her to babysit.

"Ettie!"

She paused in the hallway to the ballroom at the sound of Kevin's voice. She rolled her eyes and turned. Kevin Welsh and Eugene Guarnere had donuts in both hands, powder on their faces, and grins that could only spell trouble. Ettie sighed.

"What do you two want?"

"That's not nice for a lady to say," Kevin teased. "Mind your manners, Ettie."

She rolled her eyes. "Go away, Kevin."

"What about me?" Eugene asked.

"You too!"

But they just moved closer. Ettie bit her lip. She didn't want to deal with boys today. All she wanted was to find her parents' friends. Dealing with the stupid boys ranked lowest on things she wanted to do. Spinning on her heels, Ettie walked away with her head high.

The ballroom opened up bright and decorated in red, white, and blue streamers. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. A few of the tables sat occupied. She noticed the Spina family, though Carol was nowhere to be seen. Beside them, the Roes, with Eleanor and Elizabeth both listening intently to whatever they talked about.

The Alleys, Garcias, and Heffrons had another table. Ettie frowned. She couldn't find the person she was most looking for. All the Easy Company families were nice, and she trusted them. But she wanted to find Uncle Ron.

She didn't find Ron, but she found Jacqueline Toye. The eight-year-old's beautiful inky hair hung styled to her shoulders. Her blue dress with white polka dots reminded her of the stars. Next to her, seven-year-old Robin Powers in her petite red dress sucked on a cherry lollipop. Suddenly self conscious, Ettie ran her fingers through her curly hair and tried to get it to look nicer.

"Hi Jacqueline, hi Robin," she said. With a small smile, Ettie walked over and wrung her hands. Then she wiped her palm on her dress. "Have either of you seen Major Speirs?"

"No, sorry." Jacqueline shook her head. "But did you see Eleanor's new hairdo? She looks amazing!"

Ettie nodded. It hadn't occurred to her when she saw Eleanor at the table, but now that she thought about it, the girl's jet black hair had seemed shorter than she remembered it being last year.

"Hey, Ettie, isn't that your mom?" Robin asked.

Ettie followed her gesture to the entrance of the ballroom. "Oh, no." Her mom stood with Noë, chatting with what looked to be Mr. Lipton. "Gotta go." If Noe caught sight of her, that was it. Without even a goodbye for Robin and Jacqueline, she rushed off deeper into the throng of veterans and their families.

After jostling between a few groups she didn't know well, Ettie found the person she'd been looking for. Uncle Ron walked into the ballroom from a door to the outside. Crushing the cigarette butt and tossing it away, he looked around. Ettie ran over.

"Hey there, kid." He walked over to her, gesturing to her notebook. "Hungry for more?"

She nodded. "Can you tell me about Germany? Mom and Dad never talk about it," she tried to explain. "But this girl Sharon, at my school, she said her dad fought in Berlin!"

"Unless she's Russian, she's lying," he told her. With a gesture to an open table nearby, he moved to sit down.

Ettie followed. She opened to the next open page in her notebook. There weren't many pages left, maybe two dozen, and she would be sad to see it go. But she knew her dad would get her another one just as nice. "She's lying?"

"Yep." Uncle Ron pointed to the Easy Company men around the room. "The Red Army took Berlin, unfortunately."

"Red Army. So the Soviets?" Ettie asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Stalin wanted Berlin to expand the Soviet Union. So your friend Sharon is lying."

"What did my mom and dad do in Germany?"

When he didn't respond right away, Ettie frowned. Uncle Ron almost never refused to answer. That's why she loved talking to him so much. Everyone else got all quiet. Or sometimes they'd say things like "you're too young to understand" which Ettie hated more than anything else in the whole wide world.

"In Germany, Easy Company was an occupation force," he told her. "We didn't see much fighting. At the end, we took Hitler's house from him."

"The Eagle's Nest," she said.

Uncle Ron smiled and nodded. "Right. Though your mom always liked to call it by its German name. "Kehlsteinhaus."

"Kehlsteinhaus," she repeated. With a nod, Ettie picked up her pencil and started writing. "How do I spell that?"

As he spelled it out for her, Ettie recorded the name and other details that he gave her. She wondered what a solid gold elevator would even look like. Were they able to see their reflections in the walls? She'd never been up a mountain, either. That sounded amazing, being on top of the world.

Uncle Ron stopped about half an hour later when Mr. Lipton came over, hands on his hips and expression unhappy. She looked up at him.

"Ettie, do you know where your sister is?"

She huffed. "No. I never know where Noë is. Why?"

He frowned and looked at Ron. "Alice asked me to watch her while she, Lewis, and Harry went to find food."

"You lost her?"

Ettie looked from Mr. Lipton to Uncle Ron. While the first looked pretty unhappy, Uncle Ron seemed to find it all funny. Why Mr. Lipton would be unhappy to lose Noë, she didn't know. She'd do anything to get rid of her sister. Not that she'd ever say anything like that, but Noë wouldn't stop hanging on her.

"Yeah, I lost her. But she can't be that far," Mr. Lipton muttered.

Uncle Ron just snickered and shook his head. "Noëlle got all the crazy genes from Nixon and Alice," he said. "She could be anywhere."

Ettie shook her head. "She probably went looking for Carol."

"Carol Spina?" Mr. Lipton asked her.

"Noë thinks Carol's the coolest. Probably because she's a teenager," Ettie tried to explain. "Or try Max and Dominic Luz. She likes them, too."

"Oh Jesus Christ, just what we need," Uncle Ron muttered.

Mr. Lipton looked so distraught that Ettie felt bad for him. So with a quiet sigh, she shut her notebook and put her pencil in the page to mark her spot. "I'll help."

The smirk Uncle Ron sent Mr. Lipton's way made her smile as well. He knew how smart she was. That made her feel better about abandoning her work. At least she could help them out.

"Carol never likes to be with the rest of us. She's a teenager," Ettie explained. As she led the way through the crowd, she didn't look to see if they were following. If they didn't follow, at least she wouldn't have to find Noë. "She's usually by the food, or doing her hair in the bathroom."

As she maneuvered through the steadily growing crowd of adults and children, Ettie kept her eyes peeled for Noë or Carol. As a fifteen-year-old, Carol avoided Ettie and the other children like they had cooties. While she couldn't blame her for wanting to avoid the boys, she found most of the girls to be nice. Patricia Malarkey could be mean sometimes, but most of them weren't bad. She like Jacqueline and Robin the most.

"Come on Noë, where are you," she muttered.

As if on cue, she noticed her little brown-haired sister standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach a chocolate fountain with a piece of brownie. Her left hand pulled at the red tablecloths. One wrong move, and she'd pull the whole thing down. Ettie groaned and pushed her way over to her.

"Noë! What are you doing," Ettie hissed. "You're not supposed to go around by yourself."

"Why not!" she objected. Noë turned to her. Chocolate smeared all across her lips and cheeks. Upon seeing Uncle Ron, she grinned. "Hi Uncle Ron!"

"Hey Kid." He folded his arms but couldn't help his smile. "Did you run away from Lipton?"

The grin on her face grew so large Ettie had to just roll her eyes. But Noë licked her lips, trying to get her chocolate off and then showed them her hands. "I wanted chocolate. Mr. Lipton said no. So I left."

"Noe, you know Mom wants you with me or someone else," Ettie reminded her. "Why can't you just listen."

"It's a dumb rule."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's to keep you safe!"

"I am safe!" Noë grinned. "I'm with Easy Company!"

Uncle Ron started grinning. Beside him though, Mr. Lipton looked stressed, biting his lip. When would Noë learn? She sighed. "You can stay with me, Noë."

The girl squealed. "Ettie! I wanna find Max. Let's go find him!"

"Noë!" Ettie groaned as she tore off through the crowd. "Noë you're messy!" Without even meaning to, she threw her head back and groaned. "Stop! Come back!"

Ron watched in amusement as Ettie rushed after her sister. Napkins in one hand, notebook in the other, she left them behind without a second though. He turned to Lip. "Guess you're off the hook."

Lip sighed. "As long as Ettie doesn't kill her."

"She won't," he said, laughing. "She likes Noë too much, even if she won't admit it."

"She's more likely to kill Kevin," Lip agreed.

"Welsh?" When Lip nodded, Ron smirked. "Yeah. But Kitty and Harry might kill him first."


	5. Halfway Down the Stairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ettie bit her cheek. She hated this. It wasn’t right. None of this was right. None of it. It wasn’t right. It was wrong."

**April 1956**

* * *

Ettie felt tears trying to escape. She forced them away, scrunching up her cheeks and squeezing her eyes shut. From where she lay in her bed, Ettie could hear them. She couldn’t hear words, but she could hear their muffled voices. In the dark, she tried to imagine stars on her ceiling. But she couldn’t. She could only see black, and the tiny stream of light flooding in from under her door.

She turned over on her side. The tears tried to break out again. She stuffed them down. But then the angry voices of her parents floated up to her again, and she choked back a cry. Why did they have to be angry? Wasn’t it enough that Aunt Blanche was gone. Why did Mom and Dad have to be angry?

Throwing off her quilt, a pink and aqua spread that her mother had made with Aunt Blanche, Ettie sat up. She stretched to pull the chain on her lamp. Light flooded her small bedroom, lighting up the pink wallpaper and the blue, white, and pink flowers that Mom had painted on the blank wall. She looked right again, towards the door.

Buttons sat on her dresser. The white bunny, ears fraying and black button nose nearly falling off, made the tears surface again. Aunt Blanche had gotten that for her. A small, silent sob escaped her. Ettie grabbed her mouth. She needed to stuff it down.

Creeping towards the door, prayed that the floors wouldn’t creak. She didn’t miss the old house. She didn’t remember it much. But she did remember how the wood would make all sorts of noise beneath her feet. This house didn’t do that.

As she passed Buttons, she stopped. Ettie looked at him. As another muffled argument raged below her, she grabbed him. His soft fur comforted her a bit.

Ettie tip-toed down the hall. The darkness lifted as she got closer to the stairs. Mom and Dad’s voices got louder, more clear. At least he was home. Dad had been drinking his whiskey a lot more. Ettie knew it. Everyone did. Well, everyone but Noë.

“Lewis. You need to stop!”

Mom always said that. She always told him he needed to stop. And Dad would explain why he couldn’t. He needed to drink at work events. He needed to drink with friends. He needed lots of things.

“Why don’t you stop your smoking then!”

Dad always said that. He always told her that the smoking would kill her. And Mom would explain that it made everything easier. She only smoked three a day. She only smoked outside the house.

“You can’t come home drunk half the week!”

Ettie reached the stairs. She looked down at the wood floor in the foyer, with the ornate oriental rug that had been a gift from Uncle Ron. He’d gotten it in Korea. She missed him. With as much care as she could muster, Ettie stepped down the stairs. The wood felt cold on her bare feet. She gripped the banister and suck down to sit on a step halfway up the stairs.

“What are you going to do, Lewis? What are you going to do when one of these days you come home drunk and one of us says something that makes you mad?”

“What?”

Ettie tried to see into the kitchen. That’s where Mom and Dad were. That’s where they stood on either side of the counter.

“Do you remember when you’d say you didn’t want to be anything like your father! What if you can’t control it?”

Ettie had only met her grandfather a few times that she could remember. He’d been at the funeral, though. Drinking. Kind of like Dad. In the silence, she tried to see more. There was Dad, dressed in his work clothes. He stood back from the counter, running his hand through his brown hair.

“I’m not like him, Alice.” He shook his head, scoffing. “What about those promises back in Austria? You promised us you’d watch your smoking so you don’t kill yourself!”

“I’m trying, Nix!”

“Well so am I!”

At her dad’s shout, the house went silent. Ettie bit her cheek. She hated this. It wasn’t right. None of this was right. None of it. It wasn’t right. It was wrong. She clutched Buttons to her chest. She had to do something.

Ettie hurried down the rest of the stairs. Her pink pajamas flopped around her. At the sound of her feet, she saw her parents both turn towards her. Mom instantly smiled, like always, but Ettie could see tears in her eyes.

“Stop!” Ettie demanded. But as neither of them immediately responded, she couldn’t hold back her tears. “Stop it! It’s not right! None of it’s right!” She couldn’t help the tears anymore. She wanted her aunt back. She wanted Aunt Blanche who could smile and play pretend and made Mom and Dad laugh.

“Ma vie,” her mom said. She started tearing up then too, kneeling down. She opened her arms and Ettie grabbed her, sobbing. “It’s okay.”

“No! No, it’s not!”

Ettie felt her dad behind her. She let go of her mom and turned around. She saw him frowning, and she hated it. He shouldn’t be sad. Aunt Blanche shouldn’t be dead. Mom and Dad shouldn’t be yelling at each other. Ettie grabbed him in a hug and felt a bit comforted by his familiar cologne.

“You shouldn’t be fighting!” she sobbed. “Stop it! Why are you mad!”

She heard her mother sigh, and maybe stifle a cry. But Ettie wasn’t used to hearing her mom cry. Usually, it was just quiet tears. Elegant tears. Ettie never had elegant tears.

“Don’t fight,” she added, face still pressed against her dad’s shoulder. “Aunt Blanche wouldn’t want you to.”

“We’re not fighting,” her dad assured her. As Ettie pulled away, he offered her a small smile. “Just, having a small argument.”

But Ettie wasn’t stupid. She was nine. She knew they were fighting. And Dad wasn’t a very good liar. Not these days, anyway.

“Ettie,” her mom started. “How would you like to go see Aunt Kitty and Uncle Harry?”

Ettie looked over at her, as did her dad. “When?”

“Soon! I was going to ask your dad,” she added. “But you could go see Kevin and Diana. And Aunt Kitty would love the help, I’m sure.”

Ettie hiccuped as she tried to stop her tears. Never elegant ones. Then she glanced at her dad. He and her mom were looking at each other in silence. But at least they weren’t fighting.

“Okay.” Ettie nodded. “With Noë?”

“Of course,” her mom said.

With a smile, her mom just pulled her into a huge. Ettie felt her own wet cheek touch her mother’s warm one. She stayed there, her eyes closed. Aunt Blanche wouldn’t want them to all be sad. Or angry.

“Come on. Back to bed.”

Her mom stood up. Ettie followed, giving her dad a big hug as he was asked to go up to the bedroom. He went ahead of them.

“Mom,” Ettie started, sniffling, “Aunt Blanche wouldn’t want you to fight.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Her bare feet went from the rug to the hardwood and she got chilly. But her mom sat down on the third step. Ettie joined her.

“Do you remember that song I used to sing when you wouldn’t go up to bed?”

Ettie looked up at her. Her blues eyes, which Ettie had always thought were the most beautiful things in the world, were wet from tears. But Ettie didn’t know what she meant.

“Halfway down the stairs, is a stair where I sit. There isn’t any other stair that’s quite like this.”

Her mom had the most beautiful voice Ettie had ever heard. Clear and soft, not too high but not too low. Just right. Like the story about Goldilocks.

“It’s not at the bottom. It’s not at the top. But this is the stair where I always stop.”

Her mother sang it twice. And by the time she’d finished, all Ettie wanted to do was go back to bed. So when her mom gave her a kiss on her head, and stood up, and urged her up the stairs, Ettie complied. They went down the dark hallway until they reached Ettie’s bedroom.

“Ettie I promise,” her mom said, tears in her eyes, “I promise this will get better. It’ll get easier.”

“Please don’t be like Aunt Blanche,” Ettie said. She couldn’t stop the tears again. She willed them away, forced them down, but they came back up. “Please.”

Her mom burst into tears, and grabbed her into a hug where they sat on her bed. “I promise. Ettie, I promise.”

Her mom promised. Ettie nodded in her mom’s chest. So as she calmed her tears and her mom did the same, she struggled to control her breathing. Buttons went to her chin. She felt like a little kid, like Noë’s age. But she didn’t complain as her mom tucked her in with the quilt, and turned off her light with a smile.

Her mother whispered to her as she pulled the door shut. “Fais de beaux rêves.”

Sweet dreams. Ettie hoped so. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t see stars in her bedroom because of the blackness. But maybe in her mind, she could. She could dream anything if she wanted to. Or, she could make a dream before a real dream. A good one. One where Mom and Dad didn’t fight. One where Aunt Blanche was still there to talk to. And one where none of them were sad.


	6. Sound of Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noë Nixon gets ahold of a new toy: a plastic recorder

**1962**

* * *

Ettie closed her eyes. Count to ten. Count backwards from ten. Anything to block out the terrible noises filling the house. With each screech, the grip on her pencil got tighter. At the sound of a snap, she looked down. The tip had broken.

Her hand stung as she put the pencil down. Her math homework would have to wait. She looked out the window as another blaring, out of tune note rang through the house. She wondered how much trouble she would get in for locking Noë outside. It’s not like it was raining.

It had all started with that dumb recorder. Noë’s school had decided it would be wonderful for everyone to have one, thought it would teach music skills or something. Mom had been trying to teach Noë music skills since she’d been old enough to sit at the piano. That had done nothing, and no tiny plastic screech machine would be able to change it. Her sister was hopeless. She definitely had the talent, but she didn’t have the attention span.

Turning from her books, Ettie frowned. The sunlight made the yellow-orange décor in her room glow. Ettie slipped her shoes off and stood from the desk, letting her toes sink into the shag carpet. She tried to relax. Her exam wasn’t for a few days. She could afford to relax.

A screeching attempt at Hot Cross Buns made her skin crawl. Ettie glared. She’d had enough. Noë could go play her stupid recorder outside.

Ettie threw open her door and ran straight into her dad. Mr. Lewis Nixon III, usually looking so spiffy that her friends never let her live down her wealth, looked like he’d just climbed out of bed or something. “Dad. I’m going to kill her.”

“Ettie—”

“No, really. This is it. She’s done for.” Ettie moved past him. “I’m gonna kill her.”

He sighed, and she stopped to look back. Massaging his temple, he just shrugged. “Just do it quietly, and don’t make a mess.”

Ettie grinned. She tore down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Noëlle Ryer Nixon had disrupted her studying for the last time. If she couldn’t finish her math, she couldn’t go out with her friends. And if she couldn’t go out with her friends, Mom and Dad would make her babysit the stupid ten year old heathen currently making a racket with a hollow plastic stick so they could go out instead.

“Noëlle!” she screamed, trying to be heard over Frère Jacques.

“What!”

The screamed response came from the living room. Ettie’s feet slammed down from the last step. Storming down the hall, she got ready to tear into her sister. She even used her hair tie to pull back her curly mess of blonde hair so she could see clearly. As she turned the corner, her sister looked her in the eyes, raised the stupid recorder, and blew as hard as she could. The note turned into a screech.

As the air settled, Noë grinned. “What?”

“You are so mean!” Ettie shouted. “I’m trying to study! You know that. Why are you being so stupid!”

“You don’t like my playing?” Her sister asked it innocently enough. But as she watched her sister clench her fists, she just laughed. “I think I’m pretty good.”

“Pretty good? You sound like a dying cat!” Ettie pointed back down the hall. “Minnie and Spot ran to hide under my bed to get away from you. You wonder why they like me more?”

Noë glared. “They don’t like you more. That’s mean.”

“So is being so bad at the recorder! It’s so stupid—”

“Hey, hey! Language!” Their dad came in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen, your mom is going to be home soon. I want this cleared up by dinner.”

“Well why don’t you just tell Noë to stop,” Ettie bit back.

He drew himself. “Take a walk, Ettie.”

“No!”

“Go take a walk, or you aren’t meeting up with Sharon or Katie tonight.”

Ettie glared. Biting her cheek, she tried not to talk back again. She’d hear a mouth full from her dad if she kept it up. She knew that much. But when she reached the door and another, softer, but just as out of tune note sounded from Noëlle, she spun around, ready to throw hands.

“Ettie!”

“She started it—”

“And I’m ending it. Now.”

Before she could turn to leave again, her dad had grabbed the recorder. It separated into a few pieces. As Noëlle protested, he unscrewed all three, took the center one, and placed the bell bottom and the mouth piece into either one of Noë’s grasping hands.

Just as Noë began to tear up, getting ready to throw on the waterworks for their dad, Ettie heard the front door opening. She tore off down the hall. When she saw her mother enter and hang her coat on the hook, she didn’t even say hello.

“Mom! Noë is being so loud and I can’t concentrate on my math homework, and Dad says I can’t go out with Sharon or Katie if I get mad at Noë but she’s being stupid—”

“Calm down.” Her mom sighed, and rubbed the space just above her nose. Tears could be heard from the other end of the house. “The recorder?”

“What else.”

Her mom waved her off. “Go upstairs. Do your homework, I’ll make sure you can go out with your friends.”

“I just want to see them since we’re going to the reunion next week, and then France,” Ettie added. She didn’t want to push her luck, but she had to make sure her mom knew how important it was. “If I don’t see them now, I won’t see them until we get back in July!”

“Ettie, I know that! Go study!”

She nodded. Ettie started up the stairs just as she watched her mother, as gorgeous as ever, move down the hall towards the angry Noëlle. Ettie crouched half way up, just where the railing stopped and the wall began. She didn’t want to miss this.

“Mom! I need to practice,” Noë protested. “I can’t practice with half an instrument.”

She saw her mom shake her head. “Are you actually going to practice, or are you just going to try to annoy your sister?”

“I’m practicing, Mom,” she muttered.

“Then you can practice with me. Lewis, give her the instrument back.”

Ettie watched her dad frown, but he handed back the plastic recorder middle. Noë wasted no time in screwing it back together. But just as she stuck it in her mouth, her mom stopped her.

“Ah, ah, ah! You start your practicing by looking at your notes. Not playing the instrument.”

Ettie could see her mother smirking as her dad visibly relaxed at the realization that Noëlle wouldn’t be disturbing the whole household with her stupidity. Noë could read music. They both could. Her mom made sure of it. They knew French, and they knew basic music notation. But as Noë just protested, her mom smiled again.

“You can practice with this after you prove you know the notes.”

Noë groaned, hands on her hips. But she couldn’t win. Ettie knew she couldn’t win. Dashing from the stairs, she hurried into the next room and hid behind the couch so Noëlle wouldn’t see her as she dragged her feet upstairs. She didn’t catch what Noe grumbled, but it couldn’t have been pleasant. She did, however, hear her parents.

“I almost let Ettie kill her.”

“I’m not surprised. We’re not letting her bring that thing to France, are we?”

“Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?”

“Just making sure.”

Ettie grinned. France. First the reunion, then Paris, and then Provence. She couldn’t wait. They hadn’t been back since last August. As much as it bothered her, being the rich kid at school that everyone teased, she’d take the teasing if it meant summers in Europe. Besides, teasing was a small price to pay for a few months without that stupid piece of hollowed out plastic that Noëlle loved so much.


	7. Legendary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noë Nixon leads her boyfriend and best friend to protest the Kent State shooting by licking a patriotic landmark.

**June 1970**

_Philadelphia, PA_

* * *

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

Few sentences in the English language were as dangerous as the one that had started off that night. Noëlle still thought it was a great idea. They were in Philly for the Reunion that year. Will Guarnere’s home turf, so he’d had to come. And it meant that leaving him out of her escapades would hurt that much more.

But that was just the icing on the cake. She didn’t know how many more reunions she’d be able to come to. She and Scotty had already decided to head cross country; with the massacre at Kent State and the protests increasing around the country, they wanted to get moving. It was a perfect opportunity to book shows and help protest the war.

Max Luz had come down for the reunion this year. That meant she’d been able to get him on board her plan, too. She, Scotty, and Max. Uncle Harry called them the terrible trio of Easy Company. A Nixon, an Alley, and a Luz, causing property damage and breaking the law wherever they went. Noë didn’t think they were that bad.

They’d only had to pay for property damages at one hotel. And that had been Max’s fault. He was the one who bet she couldn’t do parkour in the bedroom. They’d had a bit too much to drink that night. But she blamed Scotty for that one. He always wanted to play spin the bottle so he could kiss her, and to get bottles they had to empty them first. Somehow they always broke the bottles and needed more.

“This was a terrible idea,” Max said.

Scotty just snorted. “Calm down, Max, this’ll be fine.”

Noë rolled her eyes at the sarcasm dripping from her boyfriend’s voice. The building would be closing soon. If they wanted to do this, they only had one shot. And there it was, the Liberty Bell, in all its cracked, patriotic glory. She nearly laughed. Basically a commentary on the state of the nation. Policemen gunning down students on their campuses, men dying for a war they didn’t believe in. It made her blood boil.

“Are you in?” She spun to look at them. Their frowns made her pause. She didn’t want to do this alone, but she would. It would be an incredible story, and an even better public display of disgust at the United States. “If I’m the only one to lick it, that makes it mine.”

Neither brown haired, brown eyed guy responded. Scotty watched the security guards as they wandered up and down the building. At least he was being productive. Max was was just a scaredy-cat. Noë huffed, spun back towards the Liberty Bell, smoothed down her white tee shirt that showed just enough of her midriff to drive Scotty crazy, and paused.

“If you’re not coming, Max, stake out a good way to make our break,” she told him. Noe turned back. “Or you really are useless and next time I see you I’m not helping pick up girls.”

Max just scoffed. “Good. The last time we did that, you started kissing her.”

Scotty hissed at them to be quiet. “If we’re doing this, now’s the time. The guards are out of sight.”

He didn’t need to say anything more. Noë straightened up to her full five foot six height, smoothed down her orange and pink plaid skirt, and walked straight towards the Liberty Bell. Her platform sandals clicked with each step. The velvet ropes that separated the landmark from her disdain swung a bit as a toddler played with them.

As she felt Scotty to her left and just behind, able to smell the cologne she knew oh so well, Noë grinned. The little girl in front of her furrowed her brow and then moved away, holding onto her mother’s skirt. Noë made a fist, trying to contain her excitement.

One.

Two.

Three.

Leaning in, Noë stuck out her tongue and licked it. It tasted horrible, and she drew back, laughing as Max and Scotty just gaped at her. They should’ve known better than to doubt her resolve. The girl dropped her lollipop as she stared at Noë, open-mouthed.

“Mommy—”

“Not now Lisa.”

“But—”

Noë, face still making all sorts of weird shapes as she tried to get the metallic taste from her mouth, shook her head. Putting a finger to her lips, she silently begged the girl not to tell.

“Are you serious?” Scotty muttered. “Nobody saw that? Nobody minded you just licked the fucking Liberty Bell?”

Noë laughed. “Suckers. You chickened out.”

Max scoffed at her. He waited no more time before leaning in and licking it too. “Fuck that’s horrible!” he choked out, stumbling back.

“Hey! What are you doing!”

Shit. Noë, Max, and Scotty turned left. A guard had started moving towards them. Noe backed up. She reached down and undid her shoes. “Go, go!”

None of them wasted any time. Noë tore out the backdoors barefoot, Scotty in front and Max just behind. Her hair whipped into her face as she took the few steps down and then pounded across the grass. She didn’t stop to apologize to the boy she knocked over. “Go!” she shouted again.

In the crowds of early summer, Noe lost track of her boyfriend. She could hear Max just behind, though, and didn’t look back. They sped through the park. Her feet hurt but she kept going.

“This way!”

At Scotty’s voice, Noë dove left down one of the streets. He pulled her into an alley and Max followed. Noë collapsed, choking on her laughter against the wall. “That was for the students of America,” she huffed out between laughs. Her laughter faded, anger replacing it. “My sister shouldn’t have to go to school scared for her life.”

Scotty pulled her into a hug. “Yeah, fuck them.”

“Nah, just you,” she teased. Standing on her toes, she kissed him.

Max, sitting on the ground, groaned and let his head hit the bricks. “Jesus. Get a fucking room.”

Noë broke apart from Scotty and laughed. “You’re just jealous, Max. Never good enough for these lips.”

He shook his head. “I think you’re forgetting spin the bottle last August. You weren’t so hesitant to throw yourself at me then.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” she said. “Ignore the rules of the game? Pretty sure you rigged it.”

He stood up, shaking his head. As Noë eased herself back into her shoes, Scotty looked around the entrance of the alleyway. The coast was clear.

“So, when are you two heading out cross-country?” Max asked. He led the way out into the street, running a hand through his hair to straighten it.

“We’re meeting the rest of the band outside New York City in a couple of weeks,” Noë told him. “Then we’re heading out west.”

“Noë and the Screamin’ Eagles. How’s it feel to not even be in the band name, Scotty?” Max asked.

Scotty just scoffed. “Scott and the Screamin’ Eagles doesn’t have the same ring. Besides, she’s the one in charge of this shindig. I’m just the guitarist.”

“Can’t be a band without a vocalist,” Noë agreed.

The sun kept shining as they moved down the busy sidewalk towards the hotel. Ettie hadn’t come to this reunion, insisted on spending time with her boyfriend in Connecticut. Noë wished she’d come down. She hadn’t seen her since the Kent State shooting earlier in the year, only talked to her on the phone.

“Hey, cheer up,” Scotty said. He threw his arm around her, letting it rest on her shoulder. He pointed down the road. “Just wait till we tell Will what he missed.”

Noë broke out into a smile again. “Anna is going to be so mad at him. What kind of brother doesn’t do crazy shit with the Terrible Trio?”

“The kind who doesn’t get invited,” Max reminded them.

With a sharp laugh, she nodded. “Oh, right. Was that me? Oops. That’s what he gets for spending years making fun of Erin.”

“How is she?” Max asked.

Noe looked right. She hadn’t seen her ex-girlfriend in nearly a year. Last time she’d been out in San Francisco, they’d avoided each other like the plague. “Probably doing good. I don’t know.”

No one asked anything else. It was still a touchy subject, and she didn’t want to discuss it with Scotty. Erin had broken up with her, not the other way around. But it was fine. She’d moved on.

“Think Mr. Guarnere will let us play at the reception tonight?” Noë asked.

Scotty and Max both burst out laughing. They’d reached the hotel, and Scotty led the way in. “That’ll go over well. Inviting a war protest band into a veterans reunion.”

But Noë rolled her eyes. “They know we’re protesting the war in Vietnam, not their war. It’s totally different, ok?”

“Touchy, touchy,” Max teased. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“Shut the fuck up, Max.” Noë punched him in the arm. As he shouted and rubbed it, she just glared.

Max grumbled. “Thought you were a pacifist.”

“That’s why I didn’t shoot you. Uncle Ron taught me many ways to kill a guy,” she added with a grin. “Come on, wuss.”

They moved into the hotel lobby and found a few of the veterans wandering around, chatting. She didn’t see any of her favorites. Uncle Ron was in Germany, Uncle Harry and Aunt Kitty were probably out with her mom and dad, and she had no idea where Mr. Lipton had gone off to. He’d mentioned exploring the city with Mr. Guarnere.

“Well. That was fun,” she said. Noë stopped in the middle of the lobby. “And we didn’t get caught.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Max said.

Scotty and Noë both laughed. He was right. She’d known everything would be fine. Not that she wouldn’t have tried either way. Licking the Liberty Bell was too good a story. Truly legendary.


End file.
